


Espied

by valiantfindekano



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: F/M, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-24
Updated: 2014-07-24
Packaged: 2018-02-10 07:30:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2016378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/valiantfindekano/pseuds/valiantfindekano
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Celegorm and Aredhel oversee a private moment between their brothers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Espied

Laurelin waxed at its fullest when Tyelcormo and Írissë made their way back towards the city. They had departed early, and between them they carried a large rabbit, a pheasant, and a basket of meaty trout—not a terrible haul for a morning’s hunting, since it had been merely the two of them, and they had not taken horses or spears.

Tyelcormo was about to lament the missed opportunity to shoot the many-pronged stag they’d seen when his companion spotted something in the clearing ahead.   

“Look!” Írissë’s face brightened. “There’s Findekáno and Maitimo!”

Tyelcormo followed the direction of her gaze. Sure enough, their elder brothers were sat next to one another beneath the trees, a basket of strawberries between them. It was still mostly full, and he was prepared to suggest that they go join them.

Something seemed  _odd_  about their position, though, and he waited as Findekáno reached for one of the berries. Rather than bringing it to his own mouth, however, the dark-haired boy passed it to Maitimo—

Who took it lightly between his lips. Both of them smiled.

Írissë stared. “Did that seem… intimate?” she whispered.

Tyelcormo made a quiet, scornful noise. “Your brother has no shame,” he whispered back. With his polished clothing and neat gold braids, Findekáno was very—well, he was very  _Vanyarin,_  and audacious like his grandmother.

Írissë swatted at his arm, but her remark was cut short as Maitimo suddenly leaned in to kiss Findekáno boldly on the mouth. And Findekáno responded, sliding his hand around the back of Maitimo’s neck to pull him closer.

Slowly, Tyelcormo turned to face Írissë, and found his own look of wide-eyed shocked mirrored in her face. Flickering his gaze back to their siblings, he found they had not pulled away, nor did they show any sign of relenting.

“What in the Void,” Tyelco mouthed.

Írissë shook her head, her mouth agape.  _I think we should leave them be._

Tyelcormo agreed. Certainly he wasn’t about to confront them, though there was a part of him that wanted to shake his brother and ask what in Arda he thought he was doing kissing his cousin like that.

Once they were certain they were out of their brothers’ range, Írissë let out a confused huff of breath, one that Tyelcormo found himself echoing.

“Our brothers are in love,” she stated, disbelief colouring her voice.

“Our brothers are  _kissing_ ,” Tyelcormo corrected with a frown.  _In love?_  No. Maitimo wasn’t like that. Macalaurë was the bleeding heart, the woman’s man, the one that actually stood a chance at being married before he was  _haru_ ’s age. How many times had Maitimo professed disinterest in such things?

Írissë narrowed her eyes. “You’re so cynical,” she accused. “Findekáno’s not like that. If they’re kissing, they’re in love.”

“I pity them, in that case,” Tyelco replied without hesitation. Both néri, and cousins, and their fathers’ sons—how was that meant to resolve itself well?

Írissë folded her arms across her chest. “I think it’s nice,” she challenged. “Didn’t they look happy together? _I_  am glad to see that  _some_  people aren’t concerned about our fathers’ bickering and that silly rule about cousins being wed.” A perfect echo of his private sentiments, that.

“Half-cousins,” Tyelcormo corrected automatically.

“Exactly.” She gave him a pointed look. “Don’t you find it inspiring?”

No; he found nothing inspiring about his brother kissing his least-favourite half-cousin, in fact. But not for the first time, he found himself giving a reluctant answer for her sake. “Inspiring. Yes. Sure.”

And he supposed he knew what she was asking for when she stepped a little closer. 


End file.
